


no one falls the way we fell

by luvridden



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter in Love, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is a Tease, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Will Graham is a Cannibal, Will Graham is a Tease, they are so bad at talking about their feelings dude..., will calls hannibal names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvridden/pseuds/luvridden
Summary: post-fall hannigram bullshit. no they cannot talk about their feelings.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	1. no one will scar me like you do

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a few things on my twitter that talked about Hannibal's reaction to Will saying he loves him. so i thought i would try my hand. i'm not really happy with how this turned out, but hey.

After the fall, there was a lot of silence. Just quiet, moving around one another silently in the kitchen, in the living room, in the bedroom (because Hannibal had the wonderful idea that they sleep in the same damn bed, nevermind the fact that it would be easier to dispatch intruders if one was in a separate room). Hannibal and Will did a lot of introspection (brooding) after it. And, there was no real need to talk if they could just scoot around one another. 

The silence grew stifling and tense after a while. Will had made the conscious choice to start the conversations. He started with a simple ‘can you pass me the salt?’ and Hannibal passed it to him silently. ‘Where?’ when somebody made the idiotic choice to break in to their little house (Hannibal pointing to the approximate location wordlessly, the intruder was in the pantry). Hannibal would start to talk back, just words. ‘Tomatoes?’ when Will and Hannibal had started cooking together. ‘How much?’ when Will would look into the fridge and find the supply is running low. 

“Goddamnit, Hannibal, can we communicate like fucking adults and  _ not _ like we’re teenagers?” Will exploded one day. It was when Hannibal was calmly rereading  _ the Iliad _ on that stupid damn sofa he’d bought. 

“Language.” Hannibal reminded him, licking his thumb and turning the page without looking at Will. 

Will scoffed, and stomped over to where Hannibal was lounging, ripped the book out of his hands, and threw it at the wall. Hannibal raised an eyebrow and pulled out another copy of that book. “I’m sick of the goddamn silent treatment. I’ll get on my damn knees if I have to, just fucking talk to me.” 

“What’s there to talk about?” Hannibal evades the subject deftly, opening the book up to the page he was on. 

“The fact that this is your fifth reread of  _ the Iliad _ and you could recite the damn thing in your sleep. The fact that I would just like to talk to you?” He started, crossing his arms. 

Hannibal sighs and snaps the book shut, placing it off to the side. He scoots over, patting a cushion for Will to sit down on.

Will sighs in return, relieved at making some headway. “Is there any specific thing bothering you, Hannibal?” He sits down gingerly, as to not irritate his ankle injury. He curls up on the couch, facing the other man. 

Hannibal clenches his jaw, not making eye contact with him, “One of us here is the licensed psychiatrist, and it’s not you, Will.”

Will ventures, “And how does that make you feel?” 

Hannibal smiles despite himself. “Glad to see that your wit is still intact.” 

“I was shot in the shoulder, not the brain.” Will responds. “How about the fall and why you’re giving me the cold shoulder like a sulky teenager.”  _ No pun intended.  _

Hannibal pauses. “What is it you meant to do?” He turns to face Will, eyes on his shoulder. “Was it meant to kill me or you? Or both of us?” His eyes travel up to Will’s face, finding him looking askance. Will looks away. “Stay with me.”

“I’ve been here with you, Hannibal.” He returns quietly, playing with his hands. “It’s the other way around.” Better to have this conversation now, rather than later, he thinks to himself. He pauses and comes up with what he wants to say. “The fall was...me choosing you. I’m not going to stop myself  _ or _ you, so I figured I should give the world a chance to stop us.”

Hannibal marvels, briefly. “Pruning the evil from the world.” 

“There is no good or evil, only what we feel when we do it.” Will said flatly, looking up from his hands to Hannibal. 

Hannibal notes with humor, “Quite a change from conflating destruction to evil.” 

Will clutches his proverbial pearls, eyebrows up and mouth open in a show of shock. “Wait -- was that a  _ joke _ ? Did Hannibal ‘the Cannibal’ make a  _ joke _ ?” 

Hannibal actually rolls his eyes. 

Will gasps exaggeratedly. 

“Don’t tempt me to eat you.” Hannibal threatens with no venom. 

First thing out of Will’s mouth is, “Oh, you’d love to eat me in more ways than one.” he challenged, hands coming down from his neck and slapping in his lap. “But anyway,” He starts, “what the hell was the silent treatment for?” 

“Because I think you’re stupid for not killing us.” Hannibal says childishly. 

“Ouch, harsh words from a man who sent a furry to kill me.” 

“You sent an admirer of yours after me first,” 

“Because I thought you were evil,”

Hannibal says back without missing a beat, “Your opinion of me has evolved?” 

Will pauses. He breathes in, and out. “I’m still clinging onto some semblance of morality.”

“And what pulls you in another direction?”

Will shoves Hannibal’s shoulder, barely managing to move him, “You  _ know  _ what does, asshole.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, I find that with age, I forget more things. Language.” He tuts, the picture of innocence. 

Will rolls his eyes. “ _ You _ do.” He looked away as he said that, then looked back at Hannibal. “What we did on the cliff, to Dolarhyde. I...I liked doing it, I liked the blood on my hands and plunging the knife into the skin of his stomach and ripping it open.”

Hannibal allows for that to hang in the air, just to make Will squirm. 

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Will asks, trying not to shove Hannibal again. 

“It’s all I ever wanted for you--”

“You said that on the cliff.”

Hannibal snaps back, “It’s true, Will.” They hold eye contact for a moment, Will looking away first. “Are you being honest with me?”

“What’s the point of lying to you? You can always see through it.” Will scoffs, wanting to shove him again. ‘I mean, I know when you’re being honest with me, because you look away from me.” 

Hannibal’s mouth falls open a bit. “Am I that easy to read to you?”

Will rolls his eyes again. “What the hell did I just say before I got you?”

“How many damn times do I need to say ‘language’?” Hannibal snarks. 

Will bursts into giggles, infectious enough that Hannibal breaks into a smile, a  _ real _ smile. A Duchenne smile, his mind supplies.


	2. somebody not as complicated as myself

After the conversation, the tenseness eases up a little. “Hannibal, pass me the garlic butter.” Will says, holding out his hand for the tub. He opens and closes it a couple of times when there’s no response. He looks up, finding Hannibal standing there and watching him. “Hannibal, you look like an asshole when you stand there smiling at me like that.”

Hannibal smirks, “You think I look like an asshole all the time.” 

Will makes a face of mock surprise and turns down the heat. “Was that a swear word I heard?” He puts down the spatula and faces him, feeling playful. Hannibal’s eyes fall down to the exposed skin of Will’s forearms as he crosses his arms, mirroring his stance. 

“Your mouth is much worse than mine.” Hannibal hums, turning and rummaging into the refrigerator. He pulls out a beer and unscrews the cap, taking a long drink. 

Will wets his lips before speaking, “It’s called an expansive vocabulary.” he teases before turning back to the hot pan. “Pass me the damned garlic butter already.” He turns up the heat again, making sure the liver hasn’t burnt. 

“What’s the magic word?” Hannibal teases back, staring Will down as he takes another drink.

“Now,” Will comments back, holding out his hand for the tub. Hannibal reaches in and grabs the butter, passing it to Will. “Knife too,” he says, taking the tub and opening it. 

Hannibal reaches into the knife drawer lightning fast, and pulls out a knife, throwing it at him. Will dodges quicker. The blade lodges in the wall, and both stare at it. 

“Technically, that was your fault, love,” Will says, leaving the stove and wrenching the knife out of the wall. “Hannibal,” He says like he’s talking to a child, “can we stop it with the attempted murder?” he gives Hannibal a playful look and wipes the knife off on his shirt. He dips the knife into the butter and taps it into the skillet, sautéing the kidney. He gets no response again, looking up after he flips it over. “Hannibal?”

Hannibal stays still, mouth somewhat open and eyes wide a fraction. 

“Sorry, uh,” Will says, staring down at it determinedly. 

And Hannibal’s mask is back in place, “No -- no, it’s fine, I’ll take that.” He takes the kidney off the heat and plates it, sawing it in half. Will turns his attention to the rice, making sure it hasn’t burnt and stuck to the bottom. He nudges Hannibal to the side with his shoulder, spooning the rice onto the plates. Hannibal grabs his and the beer, leading Will to the dining room. Dinner’s silent, only the sound of forks and knives hitting plates. 

Will can’t stand the damn silence, so he puts his elbows on the table and clinks his fork against his teeth every time he eats. Hannibal swipes his elbows out from under him, making food fall everywhere. 

“What the fuck?!” Will asks, swiping Hannibal’s plate off the table. 

“You were being rude,”

“You’ve never had a problem with that before,” Will sighs, leaning back in his chair. He swipes Hannibal’s beer after a moment, taking a drink. “Okay, instead of doing this childish bullshit, how about we...communicate like adults?” 

Hannibal snatches his beer back, taking a drink before saying, “The last time you said that, darling, my first copy of  _ the Iliad _ was thrown at the wall.”

Will takes it after Hannibal’s done, taking a long drink and maintaining eye contact with Hannibal, “Because you decided to blank me.”

“You wanted to talk to me so bad that you decided to put your elbows on the table,” Hannibal returns, snatching the beer. 

“Is this about me calling you love?” Will gesticulates, standing up and heading to the kitchen. He grabs the bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, foregoing a wine glass and bringing the damn thing to the table. Hannibal pauses, standing up and putting the bottle back where Will found it. Will curses under his breath, grabbing the bottle of beer and propping his feet in Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal doesn’t move them, surrendering to his more stubborn partner. “If it’s about the pet names, I’m sorry, it just slipped out.” 

Hannibal sighs, leaning over to grab the bottle back. “It’s not about the pet names.” 

“Then what is it about?” Will sighs, tipping the last of the damn beer down his throat. Hannibal takes the bottle out of his hand and throws it at the wall, leaning in and kissing Will hard. Only for a second. 

He pulls away as quickly as he started, leaving behind this parting quip, “Only about the beer,” He stands up and takes his empty plate to the kitchen, handwashing it and heading to the room. 

Will stares after him, agape. 


	3. i'd rather hurt here than be happy somewhere else

Things stay static for a while. Neither of them are very good at talking about their own feelings, of course. They fell into a routine, after the kiss. Get up, greet each other in the kitchen, make coffee, eat in silence, dance around the kiss. Wash, rinse, repeat. The hunting was the only time he was sure they knew where they stood with each other. Will’s washing blood off his forearms when Hannibal starts the conversation. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you.” 

He glances over his shoulder for a moment, scrubbing his forearms vigorously and watching the color wash down the drain. “What the fuck for?” 

“It made you uncomfortable, did it not?” Hannibal asks. Will doesn’t deign to answer, only trying to get the blood out of the crevices of his elbows. “Will?” he asks once, watching the other man’s shirt move around his shoulders. He crosses the room and takes Will’s limbs from the scalding water. The skin is red and irritated, tender to the touch. Will hisses at the coolness of Hannibal’s hands on the raw skin. “Like it or not, we should have this conversation.” 

Will sighs, looking down and belatedly noticing blood on his shirt. “About the kiss...I was just taken off guard.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Hannibal answers softly. “Did I or did I not make you uncomfortable?”

Will answers his question with one of his own, “Did you observe or participate?” 

“I participated.” He answers quickly, and steps somewhat closer, enough to stay in Will’s periphery, “Comfortable or not?”

“Can I wash my damn shirt before the blood sets?” Will rolls his eyes, trying to wrest his arms from Hannibal’s hold. 

“Not until you answer my question.” Hannibal huffs, deciding to try another tactic, “I’ll rephrase, are you comfortable with physical affection?” 

Will makes a non-committal noise. 

“Will, you’ve been a large advocate for communication. You have to meet me in the middle.” Hannibal says softly, dropping WIll’s arms in exchange for turning off the water. 

Will gathers his words. “I didn’t not like you kissing me. I was just...not prepared.” he answers, unbuttoning his shirt and wetting it. “And yes, physical affection is fine.” He begrudgingly adds, face flaming hot. 

“Presumably, then, you’re fine with this.” Hannibal says, wrapping his arms around Will from behind him. Will doesn’t stiffen, so he takes that as a good sign. 

“Jesus, do you always run cold?” Will asks, watching the brown of his shirt turn darker under the water.

Hannibal responds, laying his cheek on Will’s shoulder, “I may only feel cold to you because you run hotter than I do.” He doesn’t like the scratchy feeling of Will’s tank top under his cheek, but he endures because he loves Will. “I must say, it’s quite nice.”

“Yeah, we can start snuggling,” Will adds, half joking. 

Hannibal asks, “Would you like to?” 

“It’d sure help me not soak the damn sheets in sweat most nights.” Is Will’s affirmation. He hides a smile at their banter, finally something normal. 

It was never like this with Molly. She’d make jokes, sure; little dad jokes that made Wally snort and Will would fake smile and look at the other dads at whatever school function Wally asked them to come to as if to gloat to the other dads. She never really understood the private jokes he would make to himself and her, and explaining jokes took the funny out of them. 

Hannibal smiled, “I find that you take most of the duvet anyway.”

Will scoffed, rubbing at a persistent spot with his thumbs. “That would be you, Mr. Freeze.”

“If I’m always cold, I need something to warm me up.” Hannibal returned. 

“Are you propositioning me?” 

“No,” Hannibal says innocently, “I’m only talking about the need for homeostasis.” 

Will snickers at that, wringing out his shirt. “You just want to snuggle with me,”

“That I do.” Hannibal replies brazenly, setting his chin on Will’s shoulder. 

Will smiles at that, something blooming in his chest at the response. They stay quiet for a while. It’s a comfortable quiet, one meaning they don’t have to talk because they’re finally in tune with one another. 


	4. burns us both to love this close

Will did end up managing to put a name to the feeling. Warmth...adoration...love. And on some level, he recognized himself in Hannibal and Hannibal recognized himself in him. It makes it a bit harder to be able to wake up entangled with Hannibal and not get flustered at the fact that they’ve been sleeping in the same bed but it’s never been awkward until now. Because he loves Hannibal. Maybe he always has. On some level. 

The awkwardness means he becomes skittish when Hannibal lingers on a hug or when Hannibal passes a hand over the ticklish skin of his waist just to hear him laugh. Translates to when he wakes up with Hannibal’s face against his bare shoulder blades and has to measuredly pull himself away (Hannibal always wakes when that happens).

“Will...what’s on your mind?” Hannibal asks when they’re sitting on the porch drinking margaritas and watching the sun set. 

“Do we have to talk about this now?” Is Will’s response. 

“Would you like to talk about this inside?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it anywhere.” Will sighs, before sitting forward with a grunt and standing up. “But if we absolutely have to talk about it, I’d rather we do it inside.” 

Hannibal stands and follows him, closing the door behind them. “For privacy?”

“So that when I inevitably shove you, nobody calls the damn cops,” Will snarks back, taking a gulp. He licks the foam off his upper lip and looks away from Hannibal. “So let’s have at it, hm?”

Hannibal sighs, taking a drink of his own. “You’ve been skittish, lately. Would you rather I not touch you?” 

“It’s not about...you touching me.” Will definitively answers. 

“Then what is it about?” Hannibal presses, finishing his drink and putting it on the coffee table. Will doesn’t look at him.

Will takes a long and obnoxious drink to avoid answering. 

“Will.” Hannibal says tersely.

Will matches Hannibal’s tone. “Hannibal.”

“Please talk to me?” Hannibal tries, finding it yields Will looking away and his ears burning red. Will sighs, muttering something under his breath. “Will, I couldn’t quite hear you--” Hannibal starts to say, but is cut off by Will.

“I said that I love you!” He yells, thunking the empty glass on the coffee table and folding his shoulders inward. 

Hannibal stands in tense silence, shocked beyond all comprehension. 

Will breaks the silence first, having felt bad immediately after snapping at his partner. “Hannibal, I’m sorry for snapping at you, it was uncalled for--”

“I love you too.” Hannibal cuts Will off this time. His voice is quiet, fragile. It’s only now he realizes he’s crying just a bit. Will looks up, stunned at having made Hannibal cry.

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m so sorry,” Will walks up to him after grabbing tissues from the box on the coffee table, “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, Hannibal.”

“Don’t apologize, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Hannibal refuses the tissues and the apology, only taking Will into his arms and squeezing. Will returns the hug, nose against Hannibal’s throat as the two hold each other. 

“I yelled at you and made you cry,” Will points out, abandoning the tissues in favor of looking up at Hannibal.

“I’m crying because I’m happy, Will.” Hannibal counters, cupping Will’s cheek and kissing his forehead. 

“Well, I’m glad somebody got what they wanted.” Will comments dryly, leaning into the touch. 

“You don’t want to love me?”

“Shut up, asshole.” He says without any bite. “We were inevitable. I’m not a fan of how we got here, but I’m glad we’re here nonetheless.” 

Silences were less tense after that. It became normal just to sit with Will and read, a second language between them. Who needed words when you knew what one was thinking, when you and him were one and the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all chapter titles were taken from the song only the lonely survive, all credit to marianas trench.


End file.
